


Constancy

by replicasex



Series: Hat AUs [4]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Last of Us, The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, The Last of Us AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 17:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/replicasex/pseuds/replicasex
Summary: The generic name Cordyceps is derived from the Greek word κορδύλη kordýlē, meaning "club", and the Latin stem -ceps, meaning "head".





	Constancy

**Author's Note:**

> “Long before morning I knew that what I was seeking to discover was a thing I'd always known. That all courage was a form of constancy. That it is always himself that the coward abandoned first. After this all other betrayals come easily.”  
> ― Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

Smith walked in through the grimy door of their apartment and shut it behind him with a squelch.  Ross was sat at their ugly plastic table, tinkering with the pieces of a radio.  He looked up.

“They found another infected in city,” Smith said, tugging off his boots.  He sat down heavily on the moldy sofa and placed his satchel in front of him. 

“Fourth one this month,” Ross said.  He was looking at the broken pieces of a radio he found lying on the street. 

“Military’s going mental, as usual.” Smith said.  He rubbed the messy hair of his beard and sighed.  “Where’s Trott?”

“Out, he said.” Ross let the radio pieces drop from his hand.  “Said he was meeting with a potential client."  Smith’s face went ugly. 

“A client,” He said, voice almost a hiss.  “You make it sound so prissy.  We’re smugglers and thieves, Ross.”  Ross didn’t catch his eye. 

“Anyway,” Ross said quietly, “He’s supposed to be back soon.  Any minute, I think.”

“Good,” Smith said.  He had quieted down too.  “They’re going to call curfew any second now.”  Outside the dingy window of their moldering apartment the sirens were ringing.  It was only a matter of time before the P.A. lit up, announcing to the whole of the place the orders of the ones with guns. 

“Fuck,” Ross said, sitting down beside Smith.  Smith looked over at Ross.  He looked exhausted and thin.  Silver-grey had once dotted the sides of his hair but it was more than half now.  Smith felt older than any 40 year old had a right to be.  His friends were old now, like him, but he pitied the younger ones more.  The boy he hired to send a message to his latest client barely even remembered a time before.  He had been five when the infection started.  Cordyceps.  Brain fungus. 

Ross cocked his head and then Smith heard it too.  The tell-tale clatter of someone climbing up the stairway to their room.  The door groaned open and Trott walked in and closed the door behind him in a rush. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck.” Trott said.  His clothes were wet and dirty.  He had a cut above his eye and an ugly bruise was forming around the socket. 

Smith’s eyes went wide, he clambered up.  Trott shook a little when Smith touched him, checking him over for other wounds.  For bites.  Trott had been meeting with an especially elusive client.  They had demanded to meet outside the wall, outside quarantine.  But they promised enough ration tickets to keep them fed through winter. 

“What happened?” Smith asked.  His hands were steady on Trott’s shoulders.  He gave them a shake. 

“Fuck,” Trott repeated.  But he seemed to come back to himself.  Ross stood up and put a hand on top of Smith’s.  “I’m ok.” Trott said.  “But the client fell through.  We got ambushed.” 

“Infected?” Ross asked, worried and low.  Trott nodded.  “Fuck, how are they this close to the QZ?” 

“They’re everywhere outside,” Smith said.  “Think the military tells us the truth?”  He looked Trott over again.  “You didn’t … you weren’t?”

“No, Smith.” Trott said, weary.  “If I were bitten I’d have fucking offed myself.  Bastard who dragged me out there got bit to hell though.”  Smith cursed. 

“Did you check the body?  Was he carrying scratch or did he have a briefcase or anything?”  Smith asked.

“Fuck the fucking rations Smith!  Fuck!”  Trott squeezed Smith’s and Ross’ hands.  “We got ambushed and then my arse got saved by a fucking Firefly patrol.”  Ross whistled. 

“What the fuck were they doing out there?” Ross asked.  Nobody met the Fireflies by accident.

“Fuck if I know, but that’s not the point.  By the time they got there, I’d taken out two of the infected with the old bat I keep in our stash outside the QZ.  Apparently they were impressed.  Impressed enough to offer us a job.”  Trott said.  He broke free of their hold and moved over to the cabinet.  Took a swig of the rye they had saved for emergencies.  He sat down at the table. 

“We’re not taking a fucking job from the Fireflies," Smith said. "We’re toeing the line with the military as it is.  I told you what happened last week, the fucking officer cock with the bad mustache knows my fucking name.  We can’t risk it.” 

Ross looked between the two of them. 

“Trott?” He asked.  Trott nodded to him. 

“Yeah,” Trott said.  “Yeah.  Ross has got it figured out.”  He took another swig of rye. 

“Figured _what_ out?” Smith asked.  Ross leaned over and took a swig for himself.

“Fireflies don’t make job offers, Smith.  They make fucking ultimatums.  And I’m betting they didn’t save Trott’s life out of the goodness of their little hearts, did they?” 

“You said that officer with the ugly mustache knows your name, Smith?  Well, the Fireflies fucking know all of us.  Where we live, too.  They quoted me the fucking address.  They know we’re smugglers and they want us to do something for them.  And they don’t take no for an answer.” 

Trott leaned down heavily on the table.  He rubbed his eyes and winced.  “They said they’d be here after dark.  Said they’d make a distraction and get the city into curfew.”  He looked at both of them.  “Is that what the sirens are about?” 

“Shit,” Smith said.  If the Fireflies could pull something like that off – could play around with the infected like they didn’t have a care in the world – then they were even stupider and more dangerous than he had ever thought. 

“We’ll wait, then.” Ross said suddenly.  “We’ll wait and see what comes.”  He put his arms around Trott and hugged him gently.  “I’m so glad you’re alive.” He said quietly into Trott’s hair. 

“Hell,” Smith said.  And he took a gulp of rye. 


End file.
